The going of the Bavarian lady left an empty seat within the halls of the von Frundsberg keep.
Lady Katarina had managed the tallies and letters needed to keep the sprawling lands in order.
With her return to Munich, Konrad had to find new hands to oversee the forced schooling of his smiths and gunners.
Turning unlettered serfs into a drilled company of the forge required harsh teaching in numbers and weights. Tending a blast furnace or laying a great siege gun demanded a sharp mind for sums.
Konrad needed an overseer to hold the rod over the n.
Standing stiffly before Konrad’s desk was Viktor von Thiersee.
The year 1525 saw the ruin of many lesser lords in the Empire... the landed knights were bled dry by the rising cost of silver and the uselessness of their old armor.
Viktor’s own lands were a picture of this ruin.
After his house was bankrupted by the shifting trade and the uselessness of their heavy lances, the Thiersee lands had fallen to pieces.
Penniless, lacking even grain to eat, and terrified of the coming holy war, Viktor had co to the von Frundsberg keep begging for a place.
Viktor bore the marks of noble blood but his doublet was threadbare... he was a starving hound begging for scraps from the master who had ruined his masters.
"The rules of the teaching hall are absolute, we shall now test your own wits."
Konrad slid a slate across the desk.
"Na the true asure of copper and tin to cast a bronze cannon barrel that can hold the blast of a twelve-pound charge." Konrad commanded.
"..." Viktor swallowed hard, he had spent three days pouring over the printed books Konrad had given him.
"The true asure, Lord Konrad, is exactly seventy-eight parts copper to two-and-twenty parts tin," Viktor recited, "Any slipping from this asure by a single part brings ruinous cracks within the tal, causing the gun to burst upon firing."
"The asure is true..." Konrad confird, "Now, speak the founding law of this house, as written in the new printed writs."
Viktor stood taller. "The Holy Roman Empire is a failing thing, the stealing of the harvest by greedy priests and useless lords must be stamped out. The true path of Swabia is the rule of the forge. The sweat of the people must be gathered to build a strong, realm free from the Pope’s lies and mightier in arms than any lord that surrounds us."
It was a treasonous oath against both Emperor and Pope... Viktor spoke the words with the dreadful zeal of a man who knew his life depended on tearing down his own kind.
"You have the wits for the task," Konrad stated. "You shall take charge of the second hall of teaching at dawn. Yet, you must know your true place within these walls, Viktor."
Konrad leaned forward slightly, "Your worth fades by the day, you are paid a wage in silver not for your na, but because you hold a fleeting mastery of numbers... the mont the workn learn to cast their own sums, your worth becos nothing."
He let the threat hang in the air. "If you fail to teach them, or if the n cannot grasp the cutting of the grooved barrels, you shall be cast from this hall and sent to dig in the brimstone pits. Your life hangs solely upon the work you bring . Do you hear my words?"
"I hear them perfectly, Lord Konrad..." Viktor whispered.
Viktor, seeing the frailty of his new place, sought to offer more. He reached into his frayed doublet and drew out a tightly rolled parchnt, sealed with a wax crest.
"Lord Konrad," Viktor began, "If the true lack in your forges is a lack of lettered n... I hold a list of nas."
"The Swabian Circle is crumbling, my lord, there are scores of lesser houses lacking grain to eat... the sons of these knights are well-taught in sums, Latin, and the keeping of stores, yet they have no peasants to tax and no silver to buy swords."
"...they sit in rotting keeps, awaiting the priests’ wrath or starvation. I can bring them into your halls to serve as clerks and masters."
"..." Konrad remained still.
Konrad could chart the fall of a cannonball, but he could not stand at every forge, pay out every coin, and teach every man... he needed masters of stores and clerks.
By hiring the starving knights as paid clerks and taskmasters, Konrad would bleed the strength from the old lords’ party.
It was a masterful stroke won entirely through the power of coin.
"Your list reveals a weakness in our enemies," Konrad stated, finally reaching out to take the parchnt.
He unrolled it, he saw nas of houses that had once stood against his father, now begging for crumbs. "The binding of these n will greatly speed the work of the forges, you shall pen letters to them at once... tell them the von Frundsberg house offers a steady wage of Fugger silver in exchange for total obedience and hard toil."
Viktor offered a smile, "They will bow, Lord Konrad. They have nowhere else to turn... we can build the realm you desire."
"..." Konrad did not return the smile. He did not share the word "we."
"The gathering of these n is now your second task, write the letters. Then go to the blast furnaces for your teaching shift. Leave ."
Viktor bowed, the young lord turned around and fled the room.
...
Several days later, on the muddy eastern road.
The moving of the fine steel was a carefully planned task, set to bring in Fugger silver while saving the strength of the draft beasts.
Viktor von Thiersee, now a paid clerk of the von Frundsberg house, sat atop the lead wagon. He watched over a great load of half-plate, bound for the rchants in the Bavarian capital.
The silver from this trade was already tallied to buy Baltic saltpeter for the great guns!
The road to the east ended suddenly at a strong wooden gate... this was the border of Baron von Rechberg, a stubborn old lord whose failing lands sat beside the von Frundsberg forges.
The gate was kept not by drilled n-at-arms, but by a ragged band of peasants and old retainers. They bore rusty pikes and worn chainmail, a true sight of the failing Holy Roman Empire.
The captain of the guard, a knight wearing a dented iron helm, stepped into the road. He raised a pike, bidding the wagons halt.
"The road is shut to all von Frundsberg n and goods," the knight declared, "By the strict command of Baron von Rechberg, obeying the Papal Interdict, these lands are closed. All wares from your forges are nad as unholy goods and seized."
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